Confessions
by AwayWeHappened
Summary: "There's a little something called innocent until proven guilty." Mary-Margaret quipped. Regina rolled her eyes. Rolled her eyes at the suggestion that perhaps Killian Jones, their friend, had perhaps not cold-bloodedly murdered Neal Cassidy.


Chapter 1.

When faced with tragedy, they gather as many people around them as they possibly can. Mere acquaintances become best friends. Enemies become kindred spirits. They need people so later they can look back and say, "I went through that with them."

People who remind them that what they experienced, what they felt, was real. That they were there. So on that morning in early April, when students were all roused from their cozy dorm rooms just as the gray mist of dawn had started to rise, Emma set about finding her group to cling to. Someone to link arms with to make her feel less vurnerable, less unsure. Less like the world was on the verge of caving in.

Her group had found her. They had huddled around her from the moment they stepped out of their building and hadn't broken ever since their trek across the campus to Elbert. Feigning comfort. They tried to soothe her with their words. Regina, Katherin, Mary-Margaret, and Stella. Then further out, Ruby, Belle, David, Sidney, and others. Their shoes crunching through the frost-caked grass. David, Mary, and Ruby were the only real friends Emma felt close to. They wanted her to feel safe. To feel protected.

Or so it must have looked outside the world. In her world-in her head-she was no longer sure of anything.

Where had they taken Killian? Was he ok? Was he cold? What was he thinking? Emma kept seeing his face. The look of shock as they dragged him away. The pleading in eyes.

She kept hearing him tell her he would never hurt Neal. Could she believe him? Could Emma even believe anyone at Elbert anymore?

_It's all lies, Emma, _Tink had told her. _All of it._

There was a shout in the distance. Someone near her flinched.

Everyone paused and turned, but there was nothing to see.

"Let's go," Regina said finally, nudging them forward.

Emma looked at her face for the first time all morning. The cold had turned her cheeks pink, and her brown eyes were bright. Beautiful as ever.

She smiled at her reassuringly as the wind tossed her thick short raven hair across her face.

Emma didn't smile back.

Footsteps jogged to catch up with them. Soon Graham Humbert and Victor Whale were upon the group, falling into step.

"Hey." Graham kissed Regina's temble. His dirty blonde curly hair had been ruffled by the wind and , making him look even more like a abercrombie model than usual.

"What was that?" Regina asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

"Vultures," Victor said through his teeth. Striped rugby scarf was tossed around his neck, his hair was slick with water. He must have been freezing, but he was too cool to show it.

"Reporters," Graham started. "They're camped out down by the gates. Cora Mills had them locked last night after the police left. Something about heightened security measures."

"Great. Bet everybody there _loved_ that wake-up call." Katherine retorted.

"One of them scaled the fence, though. Trey was on his run and saw Grumpy 'escorting' some slag with a video camera off campus." Victor informed them.

"Grumpy's the head of the security," Mary-Margaret, Emma's roommate, informed her, noting her questioned expression as David wrapped an arm around her.

Emma had seen him before. Short man. Beard. Perpetual scowl.

She never realized anyone knew his name.

"So we're locked in," Katherine stated. She shivered and lifted the fur collar of her coat higher so that it grazed her perfect cheekbones.

"For now," Graham added. "Until they figure out what to do next."

"What's to figure?" Regina cut in. "They have the suspect in custody now, don't they?"

Emma wasn't sure who's deathly glare was more infuriating, her's or Graham's. Probably his, since she was fairly certain he'd never looked at Regina like that before in all time that they'd known eachother.

Which was forever. As they assembled into a fairly large classroom. The door was flanked by the Vice Principle, Milah, and Emma's history teacher, Mr. Gold.

Graham turned, perfectly bearded jaw clenched, and stormed inside without another word to his beloved girlfriend.

"What's his malfunction?"

"There's a little something called innocent until proven guilty." Mary-Margaret quipped.

Regina rolled her eyes. Rolled her eyes at the suggestion that perhaps Killian Jones, their friend, had perhaps _not_ cold-bloodedly murdered Neal Cassidy.

"Let's keep it moving, dearies," Mr. Gold said, waving his hand. He stared passed them with piercing eyes. "Let's keep it moving."

Emma stepped into the large classroom and started down the rows of desks to the back.

A chill rushed through her at the sudden loss of her group's surrounding warm body heat, but somehow she felt free. She realized for the first time that she'd been aching to get away from all of them. To be alone. To have some time to think.

David, Mary-Margaret, and Ruby, broke away from the group a moment later to find their seats not far from her's.

A sudden cold hand closed around her wrist.

"We'll be back here if you need us, Emma," Stella said, her icy gaze boring into me.

Emma tried to pull her arm away, but she held firm.

"I know," she told her, speaking her first words of the day.

She released her and smiled angelically. "Good."

_It's all lies Emma, _Tink had told her. _All of it._

Emma turned her back to her and found her seat.


End file.
